


The Frame

by mindabbles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Background Relationships, Community: hp_nextgen_fest, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Frottage, HP Next Gen Fest 2018, Hand Jobs, Harry Potter Next Generation, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-23 06:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindabbles/pseuds/mindabbles
Summary: What are the ethical implications of falling for a person you're named after? How about the logistical complications of falling for someone who shouldn’t be alive? James would rather, he finds, not look too closely at either, not when Sirius makes him forget anyone else exists.





	The Frame

**Author's Note:**

> Writcraft, thank you for the opportunity to write a pairing I honestly never thought I would write! It was a challenge and a fun one. Thank you to the mods for patience and kindness and for running this fest, even as challenging as it can be. Thank you to e for the once and twice-over.

James bites at his lip and rubs his palms on his thighs. He can’t stop fidgeting and he shoves his hands in his pockets before his mum notices and begs him one more time to come on holiday. Mum is standing at the front door. Dad’s footsteps echo down the staircase. From the sounds from the second floor, Lily is demolishing her bedroom in search of something she’s forgotten at the last minute. Albus hasn’t appeared at all yet.

“If your brother is still lying about, he can stay here with you,” Mum snaps, as if James has any control over Albus. 

“No way,” says James. Albus intruding on his much-needed solitude is not acceptable. 

“Love, are you sure — ” Mum starts, her expression softening as she looks at him. 

Against his will, James looks at her face and he finds his resolve weakening. Perhaps he should go on one last family holiday. It’s only a month, after all. It won’t be all bad. Rose and Hugo and them will be there and Skye is a perfect place to hike and play Quidditch and forget about the last year. But then, people will ask him what he’s doing next and hasn’t he found someone he fancies yet? And Teddy might stop in for a visit, and James can’t decide if that’s a pro or a con, so he’s better off staying home and having some time to himself for the first time in his entire life. 

“Ginny, leave him,” says Dad. He steps into the foyer, levitating two huge cases in front of him. He taps them with his wand and they shrink to fit into the rucksack that’s dangling over his shoulder. “He knows he can come up any time he wants, if he changes his mind.” 

“And if you need anything, Uncle George said to ask him,” says Mum. “And Grandma and Grandpa of course.”

“I’ll be fine,” says James. Any doubts he’d had about skipping the family holiday disappear as quickly as they came. 

“I know you will,” Mum says, wrapping him in a tight hug. 

Lily finally makes it to the foyer, trailing her suitcase behind her, her hair sticking up in all directions. “I don’t think Albus has packed yet,” she says. “I can’t believe you’re not coming.” She gives James a scathing look.

“Excuse me,” says Dad, taking the stairs two at a time. “I’m going to go and throttle your brother.” 

***

It takes another half an hour, but they’re finally off, with minutes to spare. 

James goes to the kitchen and grabs a Butterbeer. He considers writing to Teddy and asking if he’s going to be in England this summer, and thinks better of it. The last thing he needs now is to be reminded of how fit and perfect Teddy is. He walks to the front room, scuffing his feet along the floor as he goes. He flops onto to sofa and turns on the wireless with a flick of his wand. It’s one of his favourite songs, so he turns it up to the point where even Albus would tell him to turn it down. The next song that comes on reminds him of Jim. He flicks it off before he can hear the line about being perfect in your arms. They were perfect, or so James had thought. They even had the same bloody name — and Jim good sort that he was, agreed to become ‘Jim’ to avoid any confusion. James had finally let himself fancy someone other than Teddy, admitted that he had to move on, and he’d had the best year of his life with Jim next to him nearly all the time. Then school had ended, Jim had announced he was going to stay with his Uncle in Australia, and left it at that he’d try and keep in touch. Everyone James fancies is destined to leave the continent, apparently.

Mum and Dad know, and that’s part of why they let him stay home — Dad said that sometimes the best thing for a broken heart is to wallow in it. Mum made a comment about where James got his personality and said she knew better than to argue with them. 

James drains his Butterbeer and heads to bath, where he intends to hog the shower as long as he likes, and have a long, loud wank, where he doesn’t once think about how Jim’s hands felt on his skin.

***

James wakes to long, wet licks on his face.

“Gerroff, Pumpkin,” he grumbles. 

Pumpkin is a good dog. She’s loyal and she’s up for anything, and she never once balked at any mischief. At twelve, he’d wanted to name the dog Medusa or Viper or Merlin — something cool. Albus had wanted to name the dog Treacle, after his favourite dessert. And, Lily wanted to name it Pumpkin because she was going to be a pumpkin for Halloween that year. Mum and Dad’s solution was that they should come up with the name together. After hours of discussion and at a total impasse, they decided to give the dog all three names — they each had three names, after all. It was Albus’ idea and it seemed like a good one at the time. So, the dog became Pumpkin Viper Treacle, and is called Pumpkin because no one ever calls a dog by three names. 

“Come on, then, Pumpkin Viper Treacle, what are we up to today? Exploring?” 

She cocks her head and wags her tail furiously. 

This house holds secrets. That fact has been in the back of James’ consciousness his entire life. He’d hear sounds where there shouldn’t be any; open a window frame to find there was wall behind it; or peek into a cupboard that held different things depending on when you opened the door. And then there was the room that’s full of odd bits and pieces, things from Mum and Dad’s childhood, relics from this house before Dad lived here, photographs that never made it into an album, and paintings. Mum and Dad had talked for years about donating them to Hogwarts or to the British Museum of Magical History, except the few of Black family members for whom Dad seemed to have some attachment. 

James pushes open the door to the room. It holds a faint animal smell that never seems to leave. Precarious stacks of boxes stand in the corners. Some of the paintings and photos are on the walls and some are stacked in rows, a dozen deep, along the wall.

He flips through the stacks, not sure what he’s looking for. He does know he wants to not think about Jim and not think about Teddy and not think about the fact that he doesn’t really know what he wants to do next. 

An old woman grumbles about being man-handled and complains that she’s spilt her tea. A forbidding looking wizard wearing a robe that looks suspiciously like it’s made of snake skin asks to be put back on a wall. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he has nothing to do and he doesn’t particularly want company, so he keeps digging. 

He tries to imagine the lives of the people in the portraits. They all seem to have a purpose — a career, a passion, a cause. Sometimes, when he’s learned about the wars against Voldemort, he’s almost wished he lived then. He’s not an idiot, he doesn’t actually want a war, but he can see the appeal of being part of something so intense. 

When he was small, he used ask to hear the stories of how Dad met his godfather, how Dad and Aunt Hermione spent months in the woods, how Uncle Ron and Neville fought. Teddy always asked for stories about his dad and mum, but the ones that fascinated James the most included Sirius Black — probably because Dad seemed to still miss him so much. James often thinks about what he must have been like. 

At the back of the room, in the corner, hung so that the bottom is at about knee-height, is huge picture frame. James touches the ornately carved, jet-black frame, wondering why this is one of the ones still on the wall. The canvas is painted a deep, mossy green. The canvas has nothing else, no images at all. James runs his fingers along the side of the frame. He hesitates, having learned more than once in his childhood that solo exploration of unknown bits of his home aren’t always the brightest idea. The frame appears to be stuck hard to the wall. A permanent sticking charm, then. He traces a finger down the centre of the canvas. It’s cool to the touch, cooler than the temperature of the room.

James starts when he hears a soft sound, like the rustle of fabric. He’s alone and Pumpkin would certainly have barked if anyone came into the house. James waits for the time it takes his heart to slow down and he hears nothing else. He touches the canvas again and it gives, as if there’s space between it and the wall. He pulls on the frame and it remains as stuck tightly to the wall as it was before. 

James flattens his palms against the canvas. He gasps and nearly trips as he jumps back when he feels what can only be another hand pressing against his. 

“Hello,” he says and he reaches out to touch the canvas again. This time, his hand passes through it as if it were mist and he yanks it back. He exhales through his mouth as if he’s just run a mile — and his heart’s pounding as if he has as well. “What the fuck,” he says, because he feels the situation calls for it. 

He knows he should back away and close the door. He knows he should Floo his parents and aunt and uncle at the holiday house, or at least ask one of the many friends and family Mum and Dad have asked to check in on him. He should, but he doesn’t.

“You’re an idiot,” he says to himself and he lifts his foot and steps into the frame. 

It’s cool and dry and there’s a draught coming from somewhere. He turns and he can still see the room in his house. He sticks his hand back through the frame, just to make sure. His hand is in Grimmauld Place and the rest of him is, well, inside a painting. 

“ _Lumos_.” 

The light from his wand bounces off walls. James moves the light around. He’s in a tunnel. It’s straight and long and he can see light from the other side. He touches the wall and it is solid and cool. It feels very real and James pauses to wonder if his parents know about this painting’s unusual qualities. They’ve never mentioned it. 

Every sensible impulse he’s ever had in his life is pulling him back to his home, back through the frame, and directly over to his grandparent’s or one of his uncles’ houses. His teachers and his parents would be happy to tell anyone who might ask that his sensible impulses aren’t usually the ones that win the debate. 

His eyes become accustomed to the dimness of the tunnel and he extinguishes the light from his wand. No sense in alerting whatever is at the other end of the tunnel. 

The pale light at the other end is blocked by a shadow and James freezes, back against the wall. He hears footsteps and the shape moves closer. It’s a person and in the dark, James can’t tell anything else. 

“What the bloody hell,” says a voice from the shadow. James’ brain supplies that it must not be a shadow. It’s a man’s voice, with a clear, crisp, slightly posh accent. 

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” says James.

“Who are you,” growls the man, only it sounds more like a threat than a question. 

“James,” says James. “James Potter. And who the hell —”

There’s a wand at his throat before he can finish his sentence. “Say that again and you’ll regret it.” 

James grips his wand. His arm is pinned against the wall and he won’t be able to stupefy this man before he makes good on his promise. 

“Listen,” says James. “I don’t know what —”

“What’s your name?” 

“You said I’d regret it if I told you.” 

“ _Incarcerous_.” 

“Oi,” James yelps. “There’s no call for that.” 

The man grabs James’ arm and holds him against the wall and it dawns on James that he should probably be afraid. This man is clearly used to accosting people in tunnels and James, while he does quite well at duelling, has no experience that wouldn’t fall into the category of school-boy games. 

“Did Bellatrix send you?”

“Who, no, what?” James stammers. His hands are beginning to fall asleep from being crushed against the wall and he’s about to try and fight back when the light at the other end of the tunnel goes dark, as if curtains have been drawn.

The wand at his throat digs a little deeper. “What did you do? Where the hell are we?”

“We’re inside a painting inside my house and I didn’t do anything, I mean I did, but I don’t know what I did. I walked into a painting and there was a tunnel, and please take your wand out of my neck. I swear I didn’t do this on purpose.” James’ heart is beating and he wants to get out of this tunnel with this man who’s willing to tie him up and kill him. 

The wand doesn’t lower, but the pressure eases. “You went into a painting?” The way the man says it makes James think he’s heard of something like this. “Here, why did you say your name was James Potter?”

“Because it bloody well is,” James snaps. “And get off me,” he adds pushing back enough to light the tunnel with his wand. 

“Fuck,” both the man and James say as the light hits their faces. 

“You look exactly — ” says James, faced with someone who’s the spitting image of photos he’s seen of Sirius Black, but when he was a boy.

“Are you his cousin?” The Sirius-look-alike asks at the same time. 

“What?” James says and he hears the echo as they both ask the same question. 

“Are you related to James Potter?” he asks, staring at James. 

“I _am_ — I’m getting out of this tunnel,” says James. He strides back towards his house. If this lunatic decides to hex him in the back, so be it. When James doesn’t hear any footsteps behind him, he says, “Your side is closed, in case you forgot.”

James steps back through into the room, and the man follows. Pumpkin is there, wagging her tail and bounding over to sniff what she should recognise as an intruder. 

“She’s usually very protective of me,” says James, glancing from his dog to the Sirius-impersonator. 

The man drops his hand to her head and says, “Dogs like me.” He looks around the room, back at the painting, and blanches. “Where are we?” 

James doesn’t really hear the spell. He does see the light before it hits him and everything goes dark.

***

James is aware that he’s breathing. He doesn’t hear a sound, so he cracks one eye open and checks to make sure he still has his wand. The man is not in the room and James is about to ease his sore body off the ground and get to The Burrow as fast as he can when he hears footsteps in the hallway. 

“Fucking Alphard,” mutters the man. James closes his eyes and tries to relax everything but the fingers that grip his wand. “He should have told me.” 

The man walks over to the frame and mutters some spells that James doesn’t recognise. “Fuck,” he says. 

James cracks one eye again and sees that the man has come close to him. He braces himself to leap to his feet and defend himself. “I know you’re conscious. I also know you didn’t bring me here on purpose.”

James sits up slowly, keeping his wand trained on the man. “Who are you?”

“Sirius Black,” says Sirius. “I need a fucking drink.” Sirius drops to the floor near James. “This is my parents’ house, but not, and you’re James Potter, but not. And what year is it?” 

“It’s 2022 and you can’t be Sirius Black,” James says.

“It’s when? Well, fuck,” he says absently as if this is simply another inconvenience. “Listen, my Uncle left me a flat. There’s a bloody great ugly painting,” Sirius says. He seems distracted and he’s scanning the room as he speaks. He’s clearly decided that James is no kind of threat and James isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. “I asked him about it when I was a kid and he said it was left over from a friendlier time. I couldn’t get it off the wall when I moved in, so I’ve ignored it. It must be connected to this one.” 

“I knew there were things in this house we hadn’t found,” says James.

“My uncle always said that this house had nearly as many secrets as Hogwarts.” 

“You wrote the map,” James says, as it hits him fully who this person is. “You know my Dad’s parents. You’re my dad’s godfather. He —” James stops himself, about to say that Dad misses him so much. Sirius would only be about 60 if he’d lived. 

Sirius looks him up and down. “The map?” 

“The Marauder’s Map — my brother has it now, but my Dad gave it to me, sort of, and my grandfather and you and your friends wrote it.” A silly grin spreads on James’ face. He feels a bit like he’s meeting a rockstar. 

“James Potter,” says Sirius again, as if it’s sinking in. “It’s 2022. You’re bloody James’ grandson.” 

***

Now that Sirius seems to have fully realised where and when he is, he seems to settle in to solve the problem. Only, from what James has heard about Sirius’ time, getting back there isn’t any kind of problem-solving James would want to do. But, if he doesn’t go back, then he won’t break out of Azkaban and maybe that Pettigrew person would have killed Dad and James wouldn’t even be here, but that can’t have happened because James is here. James rubs his head and looks up to see Sirius tapping on the frame and running his fingers over the canvass. 

He brandishes he wand and says, “ _Expecto Patronum_.”

A silver shape that is about the size and shape of Pumpkin bursts from his wand and Sirius tells it to go and tell James Potter and Remus Lupin that he’s gone through the painting in the spare room. The silver dog barks and gallops from the room. 

James holds his breath, waiting to see what will happen. Two minutes later, the silver dog trots back into the room, right up to James, and says in Sirius’ clear, crisp voice, “I’ve gone through the painting in the spare room.” It trots around the room as if it’s looking for Remus Lupin, until Pumpkin starts to bark at it and it barks back.

The Patronus fades into the air and James decides now is not the time to ask Sirius to teach him to cast one. 

“Are you fully qualified?” Sirius asks.

“Yeah, ‘course I am,” says James. 

“So, you must’ve only just finished school,” says Sirius, eyeing James as if he thinks he’ll turn into someone else. “So’ve I.”

“This is very, very odd,” says James. “I’m named after you. My middle name, that is.” 

Sirius blinks. “I didn’t see that coming,” he says. “Let’s get out of this room. It’s starting to give me the willies.” 

James couldn’t agree more. The morning is not promising to get any less odd. It’s cold and the spectre of the portal or whatever it is gives the room an eerie feeling, and James must admit, he’s not ready for Sirius to go. The kitchen has always been his favourite room in the house, so he leads the way, although, he thinks, Sirius certainly knows where the kitchen is. 

“Tea?” James offers.

“Something stronger.” 

James roots about in the pantry and comes up with a bottle of port. He grabs two goblets and fills them.

Sirius takes the goblet and knocks back what looks like a sizeable gulp. “I’m at a disadvantage. You seem to know about me, but I know nothing about you.” 

“Well, I’ve finished school at Hogwarts. I was in Gryffindor. I have a younger brother and a sister and a god brother. I have about a million cousins,” James says, taking a breath and thinking that he’s making himself sound like the most boring person on earth. 

“Someone named after James and me would have to be in Gryffindor,” says Sirius. 

“Both of my parents were as well.” 

Something tells James to stop. He knows the history, but not all of the connections. He knows that his great uncles were killed in the war that Sirius is fighting right now. He knows that all of this man’s closest friends are dead. He knows that his brother is also named after two people who are dead, and that the fact that Sirius hasn’t asked after any of them makes James hold his tongue. 

“Well, no doubt James’ son would be,” says Sirius. “Right, I know this house. You know this house. There isn’t a charm or a spell I can’t figure out. If you live up to your names, you’re clever as well. Let’s figure out how to get that bloody thing to open.” 

James grabs the bottle of port and says, “I think the study is probably the place to start.” 

***

They spend the afternoon in the study. There are books about time travel and books about portals and about portraits and books about the history of magical dwellings. There are no sections in any book that seem to combine all of them. 

After hours of studying and trying and failing with variations of spells, James is beginning to think he’s going to have to ask for help, as much as he doesn’t want to let anyone else know that Sirius is here. 

“I’m knackered,” says Sirius, stretching. He rolls his neck and James watches the way the muscles in the strong column of his throat move. 

James doesn’t want to go to bed — he wants to learn more about Sirius and his time, and his grandparents and Teddy’s parents. James tries not to be an inconsiderate prat when he can remember not to be, and he figures Sirius has to be even more overwhelmed by all of this than he is.

“You can have my room, I mean, I think it’s also your room,” James says. 

“Right, that’s not odd in the least,” Sirius says, heading for the stairs. 

James sits on Albus’ bed, hands clasped between his knees. He listens for any sound from next door — a footstep, a whisper of his name. There’s a ledge that runs from the outside of his window to Albus’. They used to climb along it as little boys to continue games of Exploding Snap long after they’d been told to go to bed, feeling daring, as if their clambering along the outside of the house was stealthier than walking the four steps across the landing. James suppresses the ridiculous urge to cross that ledge now. 

He hears the creak of his own bedroom window and he’s across the room in a heart beat. He’s heard about Sirius all his life. He’s heard stories of good and bad and seen photos. He knew from the photos that Sirius was dead gorgeous, but seeing him in person is another thing entirely. He’s just so cool and confident. He’s fit as hell and James finds it hard to look away from him. After the disaster with Jim, and his unrequited pining for Teddy, James is a little relieved to find himself so pulled to someone — as odd as the situation is. 

James leans out of Albus’ bedroom window and tries for casual. Sirius is leaning out of his window, looking up at the overcast sky where the clouds reflect the lights of the city. The breeze ruffles his hair and his face is backlit by the lights from the room. He looks like a bloody cologne ad. 

“I never wanted to come back here,” says Sirius. He turns to look at James. “It does seem to have improved under your family’s care, though. Fucking Prongs —” 

“That’s my grandfather, right?” James asks. 

“Christ, if you say so. Anyway, he said something like this would happen if I stayed in that flat. I thought being blasted off the tree gave us protection. And you’re his bloody grandson. I’ll never sleep. Fancy a drink?” 

“I’ll be back,” says James, and he dashes down the stairs to the dining room and grabs a bottle full of the 10 year old Ogden’s that Mum and Dad won’t miss and two crystal tumblers. He takes the steps back up two at a time and feels a right idiot when he knocks on his own bedroom door. 

“Drinks,” he says, when Sirius opens the door. “We don’t have many of the original things, but Dad’s kept of few to remind him of his godfa — well, you, I suppose.” 

“Ta,” Sirius says, taking a tumbler. “What are you doing here on you own of you have all that family?” Sirius asks, looking at James through the very fine crystal. “My dear mum would burst a blood vessel if she saw you drinking cheap plonk out of her grandmother’s crystal. So, what’s your story?” 

“The family went on holiday and I didn’t fancy it. No story,” James says, shrugging. Sirius cocks one eyebrow and James sense he’s about to tell James he’s full of it. “And I wanted to be alone to sulk.” 

“There’s always a story. Who’s the lucky girl?” Sirius asks. 

“No girl,” James says. “A prat named Jim.” 

Sirius drains his glass. “You’re in good company, then. When you so cordially invited my back into my own home — this will never stop being odd, by the way, and I’m still not convinced this isn’t a Death Eater trap — that’s what I was doing.”

James blinks. He takes another drink. His thinking is beginning to feel fuzzy around the edges. “Here. What do you mean ‘good company’?” 

“And here I thought you were clever.” Sirius slides to sit on the floor. “Who’s your bloke?” 

“Someone from school. He decided life would be more exciting elsewhere. Probably for the best, though. If I’m being honest, he was a bit of a stand in for someone else.” James feels a pang of guilt for saying that about Jim, who he truly believed he loved. But, Sirius and the whisky seem to be loosening his tongue. 

“That’s never worked for me. So, who’s your real bloke?” Sirius takes another drink and James is impressed with how he can hold his whisky. The only indication is a slight pinkness in his cheeks, which makes James want to lick him.

James points to a photo on the mantelpiece of Harry and Teddy, taken last year. Harry’s arm is slung around Teddy’s shoulders and they are laughing. 

Sirius’ eyes pop wide open. “Who the hell are they?” 

“Um, the older one’s my dad and the other one’s Teddy — the original bloke, my bloke, and my bloody god brother.” 

“Your dad looks exactly like James will in twenty years,” Sirius says. He walks over the the mantelpiece and stares intently at the photo. “Um, who are your bloke’s family?” 

James takes a long, slow drink of his whisky. He doesn’t have any idea how he’s going to keep giving information about life now without telling Sirius things that he doesn’t want to tell him. They seem to have had an understanding that they will only talk about present day so much and they’re about to fall right off the precipice of that understanding. 

“He’s related to you,” says James, deciding that’s the safer bet. “I believe through your cousin Andromeda.” 

“A Black, then? Poor fellow. There’s something else. He looks really familiar,” Sirius says, squinting at the photo. 

“All I know is that he doesn’t want me,” James says. His heart is pounding. 

Sirius turns from the photo and James exhales. Sirius takes another sip of his drink and looks James up and down. “I can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t want you. Your bloke’s loss, if you ask me.” 

 

***

Sirius is sat on the floor in front of the fire. It’s a warm day, but the evening chill has a way of seeping into this old house. 

“Does sitting here bring back memories?” James asks, pushing himself along the carpet closer to Sirius.

“My family sat by the fire, but it wasn’t exactly a homey affair,” Sirius says. “More like a hostage situation.” He looks up and smiles and James is reminded of the feeling of diving from a height on his broom. “This, on the other hand, is not awful.” 

James lets his gaze wander over Sirius’ handsome face. He looks more relaxed now, almost content for the first time James has seen him, and the effect is stunning. Sirius is watching him back and James is hit by the fact that he doesn’t know how much time they have, and there’s so much he wants to know.

“Tell me something else about my grandparents,” says James. 

Sirius laughs softly. “That’s not what I thought you were going to say.”

There’s a break to the quiet tension that was growing between them, and James could kick himself. James laughs, and it sounds self-conscious and sheepish. 

“James is brilliant and one hell of a wizard, and he’s not bad looking, either,” Sirius says. “And if any one ever tells him I said so, I’ll deny it to my death.” 

“Does he know you’re gay?” James asks. He reflects that Lily might be right when she says he has the tact of an Erumpent with gas. Sirius takes in a breath, and James goes on despite himself. “I’ve always wondered what it was like, back then, I mean, people didn’t really talk about it, did they.” 

“Do they now?” Sirius moves even closer to James. Their knees are touching and he's looking into James' eyes. 

“More than they used to, I guess. Some people are arses, but most people my age don’t care.” Something makes James add, “Everyone knows I am.” 

“James, my James, is the only person who knows,” says Sirius. “And yeah, he’s been good about it.”

“So why did you tell me?” James asks.

Sirius shrugs. “You said you were sulking about your bloke and it just came out. Besides, you told me first. Hey, at least you know you have a chance. I don’t even know if Remus fancies men.” 

“He does,” says James. “I mean my dad told me that he — had a relationship with a man.” Something holds James back from telling Sirius who that man was. 

“Oh,” says Sirius. “I think I’m not as happy to hear that as I might have been under other circumstances. You know, I don’t think I want you to tell me anymore about my future life. At least for tonight. Tell me what Hogwarts is like now.” 

“We won the Quidditch Cup last year,” says James. He can still feel the Quaffle leaving his hand for that final goal. “My fourth goal put us far enough ahead that, even if Slytherin got the Snitch, they wouldn’t have won. That last match clinched it and we beat Ravenclaw by about fifty points.” 

That night with Jim had been spectacular, and James had been sure he was over Teddy at last — or at least, able to move on with some grace. James glances at Sirius, he’s grinning as if he can picture the sea of red and gold and hear the cheers. He finds he doesn’t want to think about either Jim or Teddy right now. 

“Doesn’t sound so different,” says Sirius.

James makes a small sound of agreement. He stretches out his leg and his foot slides along Sirius’ leg and comes to rest next to his ankle. He hadn’t meant to touch him, but when Sirius doesn’t move away, James doesn’t regret it. 

“James is a Chaser as well. He saved a Snitch from the first match Gryffindor won when he was on the team and he used to play with the bloody thing all the time.” As he talks, Sirius moves his leg so that it’s touching James’ from thigh to ankle. “At the beginning of last year, Lily threw it in the lake and the Giant Squid nabbed it like a Seeker.” 

James’ laughs and he moves his foot again, almost so it could be a mistake, and rubs the ball of his foot across the top of Sirius’. 

“No one’s ever played footsie with me before,” says Sirius. “Didn’t know it was a thing people actually did.” And he laughs. 

“Prat,” says James and he leans over and kisses him. Sirius is still at first, and James presses in, moving his lips firmly across Sirius’. Finally, Sirius makes a small sound of desire and kisses back. 

“That more what you expected?” James asks when they pull apart. 

Sirius threads his fingers through James’ hair and pulls him back in for another kiss. 

***

Take away containers litter the library floor. If Grandma saw the state of the room, she’d say he must have been brought up in a midden. Pumpkin sniffs at an open container of shrimp vindaloo. “You don’t want that one, girl,” says James. 

“She likes spicy food,” says Sirius. 

James laughs and then realises that Sirius wasn’t joking. “I don’t fancy cleaning up after her if she eats that.” James begins to gather up the containers. It seems he wasn’t brought up in a midden.

“She also wants a walk.” 

“She wants a walk,” says James. He’s sick of being in this room and he fancies doing something with Sirius other than reading and eating. He also fancies Sirius seeing him on a broom — the place Jim used to say he looked his fittest. “Fancy some one-on-one?” James asks. “Quidditch? We’ll take her with us.”

James leaps to his feet and jogs from the room. On his way past the back door, he grabs his and Albus’ brooms, a Quaffle, and a ball for Pumpkin. 

There’s a bit of a park down the road. It used to be a private park for residents of this square back when it was a posher neighbourhood for Muggles. No one ever goes there, except to let their dogs out, and Mum and Dad long ago taught them all notice-me-not charms so they could practice flying and play and generally cause the kind of ruckus three kids can cause.

James tosses Albus’ broom to Sirius. He snatches it out of the air with practiced ease. He runs his hand along the handle and touches the neatly arranged twigs with reverence. 

“It’s beautiful,” Sirius says as he mounts it. 

The breeze ruffles Sirius’ hair and his cheeks are pink in the cool air. He sits astride the broom with a grace and confidence that makes James want to slide on behind him and wrap his legs around Sirius’ hips. His gaze travels over Sirius’ body and he can feel heat bloom low in his stomach. 

Pumpkin nearly knocks him over, slamming against him with her ball in her mouth. Sirius laughs and kicks off with a whoop of joy.

“Traitor,” says James, pulling the ball from Pumpkin and throwing it as hard as he can across the park. She takes off after it and he can hear her scampering about in the dry leaves as he joins Sirius in the air. 

He lobs the Quaffle, a perfect pass, to Sirius, but far enough in front of him that Sirius will have to work for it. Sirius leans in and speeds off for a fantastic catch. 

Sirius handles the broom like it’s a part of his body. His grace and confidence are intoxicating and James could watch him all day. Sirius throws the Quaffle far to James’ right and James swerves to reach it, scooping it out of the air right before it falls out of reach. He tucks it under his arm and races toward Sirius. Sirius turns toward him and for a moment it looks as if they’re going to collide, until James angles his broom so he can pull up alongside Sirius. He moves in close to pass Sirius the Quaffle and, as he does, he leans over and presses his lips to Sirius’ before zipping off for another loop around the park. Sirius shouts after him and James can sense Sirius chasing him, gaining on him and he feels a thrill of wanting to win, but wanting to be caught at the same time. He slows a bit and Sirius draws next to him, breathless and windswept. 

Pumpkin is chasing her tail and barking and generally going mad below, so James signals to Sirius that he’s going to land, and Sirius follows. They alight on the soft ground a few feet from each other and Pumpkin is next to them, yelping and wagging her tail in excitement. 

“Christ, I love this broom,” Sirius says. He holds it up in front of him, glowing with excitement. “I won’t be able to go back.” 

“What if you didn’t go back?”

“What if I didn’t go back,” echoes Sirius. 

James feels like an idiot for having said that. He has no idea what else to say, so he rushes Sirius and wraps his arms around him, crushing their mouths together in a fierce kiss. Sirius’ breath leaves him in a whoosh, he loses his balance, and they go down together, onto the damp, leaf-covered ground. Sirius looks up at him in surprise and then he grins the grin that James’ grandfather must have seen before every adventure, and James finds himself on his back, with Sirius on top of him. 

James leans up and covers Sirius’ mouth with his. Sirius pauses and James feels like he’s waiting, waiting for James to show him what he wants. James bends his knees so that Sirius’ hips are cradled between James’ thighs and James can rock up against him as he deepens the kiss and slides his tongue into Sirius’ hot mouth. 

Sirius gasps and presses down against James, his mouth and his chest and his hips. His weight on James feels so right and James moans when he feels that Sirius is hard and seeking pressure. 

“Yes,” whispers James, moving his hands across Sirius’ back. He can’t hold him tight enough, thrust up against him hard enough. James wraps one leg around Sirius', trying to meld their bodies. 

"Gorgeous," murmurs Sirius, his lips moving across James' jaw and down his neck. He moans loudly when their hard cocks rub together. 

A long, wet tongue, which is most decidedly not Sirius’, laps at James’ cheek. He rolls off Sirius, laughing as Pumpkin inserts herself between them. 

Sirius props himself up on his elbows, flushed, disheveled, and covered in mud and leaves. He smiles disarmingly and James wants to pounce on him. They are covered in mud, from head to toe – all three of them. Pumpkin’s going to need a bath and Sirius is going to need to borrow some of James’ clothes. And James wants to get Sirius lying down somewhere that's not wet and muddy. 

"Home," says James. "I need to get you home." As the words leave his mouth, he hears them. He hears them for what Sirius must hear, not for what James meant. He never meant to remind Sirius that he doesn't belong here, but he knows before he finishes the sentence that that is what he's done. 

Sirius' jaw clenches momentarily and he says, "Yeah, we should get back and get back to work." 

***

James glances at Sirius. He’s deep into a book on portrait charms. His hair falls artfully over his forehead as he leans forward to focus on the words. James’ jeans are tight around Sirius’ muscular thighs. James is having trouble finding the words on the page of his book more interesting to look at than Sirius. 

Sirius sighs and puts the heavy book back on the shelf. He stands before the rows of books, scanning the titles and tapping the spine of each book, and now James can admire the full length of him, head to toe. He’s lost in the way Sirius’ broad shoulders narrow through to his waist and the way his arse curves, nestled in the jeans, when it hits him what shelf Sirius’ finger is tap-tap-tapping along. 

“Sirius,” James says. 

Sirius stops and turns. He smiles and James is relieved that Sirius doesn't seem to be hacked off with him – yet. Sirius says, “Yeah?” 

James considers ignoring his better impulse and going in for another session of toe-curling kissing. Reason wins out and he’s sorry no one but Sirius is there to witness the moment. James moves next to Sirius and pulls, _The Rise and Fall of Voldemort: Tragedy and Triumph_ from the shelf. 

“I think there’s something I should tell you.” 

He hands Sirius the book. Sirius stares at it for a moment, his eyes darting over the cover art, and James remembers that there’s a rendering of Sirius — that doesn’t begin to do him justice — in the lower left corner. Sirius looks up at James and it’s clear they both know that this is the conversation they’ve been avoiding.

“I don’t think I want to hear this from you,” Sirius said. “Maybe I should read it.” 

James feels like an utter coward, but he doesn’t want to tell Sirius the story either. “Yeah. Maybe.” 

Sirius installs himself in the corner of the sofa and opens the book to the table of contents. He doesn’t say a word as Sirius flips page after page. An hour passes and another, and Sirius doesn’t lift his head. James reads through other books, looking for clues as to how to get Sirius home. He doesn’t take in any more of the words than he would if they were written in ancient Greek. 

James holds his breath when Sirius closes the books with a snap. 

“Peter,” he says, his voice dripping with disbelief and his face crumpled in pain. 

“I’m sorry,” says James. He’s felt so close to Sirius these past few days and he’d like to go to him, but something tells him he should be still. There’s no way he could begin to comprehend what Sirius must be feeling right now. 

“But I can stop it,” says Sirius. “This doesn’t have to be true.” He holds the book aloft for a full three seconds and lets it drop to the floor, where it lands with a bang that makes James jump even as he sees it coming. 

Sirius leaves the room. James doesn’t follow. He does spend the rest of the night, awake, and imagining that Sirius must be certain he's in a nightmare. 

***

Sirius comes down to the kitchen for breakfast, as has become their habit for what seems longer than a few days. He smiles and says good morning and as he's pouring his tea, he says, "Before you ask, I'm fine. We'll keep working on it and we'll figure it out. Forewarned is forearmed. In the meantime, I've never liked being in this house before, and I'm going to enjoy it." 

James is beginning to doubt that they will figure it out, and he's also less and less looking forward to Sirius leaving. No matter what happens, the summer will end, and when everyone gets back from holiday, everything is going to change. James would like things to stay as they've been until then.

“Mum and Dad will be able to figure it out when they’re back,” James says. “If they can’t, my Aunt Hermione will, no doubt.” 

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” says Sirius. The determination on his face tells James that Sirius is not used to not being able to figure something out. "Let's skip the books today and try the frame itself."

James follows Sirius through to the frame, all the time hoping that part of Sirius’ lack of interest in seeking help is because he’s not ready to leave James until he absolutely has to, either. 

James is describing what happened that morning for the tenth time, and he and Sirius are comparing what happened on his end, also for the tenth time, when a familiar owl taps at the window. James lets it in and pulls the scroll from its leg. It hops on his shoulder and nibbles at his ear as he reads the message from Uncle Bill.

 _I'm stopping in to check on you because you haven't written to your mother. I'll be there in ten minutes, so hide your boyfriend and clean up the bottles so I don't have to tattle. Yours, Uncle Bill_

"What is it?" Sirius asks.

James folds the note. "My uncle. He's coming over. He's a Curse-Breaker." James pauses. "I suppose I could ask him about this bloody thing." 

"Yeah, I suppose you could," says Sirius, and James could crow over how unenthusiastic Sirius sounds about the prospect. 

"You have to hide. He'll know who you are," James says. Sirius gives him a look like he's about to argue and James says, “There isn’t anyone in my family or friends or teachers who wouldn’t recognise you. I don’t think there’s anyone who’s been to Hogwarts who wouldn’t recognise you.” 

Sirius looks again like he's about to argue. "Hang on," says James. " _Accio Extendable Ear_. A small purple pouch comes zooming to him from behind the armchair in the corner. He and Albus and Lily keep one hidden in just about every room, for emergencies. “Put this end in your ear and I’ll put this one through the crack in the door. You’ll be able to hear and see everything.”

“It looks like a bit of someone’s innards,” Sirius says, turning the end of it over in his hand and staring at it as if it might crawl up his arm. 

“It’s the third version of an Extendable Ear. My uncles invented the first one during the war. With this one, you can see and hear.” Sirius mutters something about needing to take it back with him, but they hear the door open. “Get upstairs, that’s him,” says James. 

James runs to the foyer to meet Bill. Sirius is listening, so he has to ask for help, but he’s afraid that Bill will actually know how to make the thing work. 

“Hello,” says James as Bill steps inside. 

"You're alive and well, I see," he says. 

“Fine, yeah. What’s up?”

“What’s up. Your mother said you promised to write every other day and she hasn’t heard from you at all. She only sent me instead of your grandparents because she’s not _that _angry with you yet,” says Bill. “I see that you’re in one piece, so you’ve no excuse.”__

__“I’ve been really, eh, busy,” James says lamely._ _

__“You’ve finished school and you don’t have a job,” says Bill. “Christ, Jamie, just write to your mum, will you?”_ _

__“Yeah, I promise. Sorry,” James says. “So, I do have a question. There’s a painting that did something strange and I wonder if you’ve ever heard of it. I thought I could, um, learn some more advanced charms in case I decide to apply to be a Curse-Breaker.”_ _

__Bill levels James with a look that makes him squirm. “That’s why you’re asking.”_ _

__James nods and hurriedly explains what happened with the painting — leaving out the fact that his father’s godfather also time-traveled by about forty years. It occurs to him that Bill’s advice might not be that useful, leaving such a crucial bit of information out._ _

__Bill follows James to the room where the painting hangs, looking innocent and as if it’s never done anything extraordinary since it was painted. He looks at the frame. He taps it with his wand. He runs his hands over the frame and the canvass, reciting complex incantations._ _

__Bill steps back and wipes his hands on his robe. “This house still gives me the creeps sometimes. So, what you described sounds like a modified version of the charms used on portraits. The spells are layered, but they focus on the images in the paintings — on animating them and allowing them to transfer between frames. I’m sure modifications could be done to make what happened possible. James, listen to me, there are some deep, old spells embedded in that frame. Things I haven’t seen. I’d leave it alone.”_ _

__“Where would I find more about it, in books, like?” James asks._ _

__“I’m sure I have some at the office, Hermione would have some. I suppose you might in here as well, given your dad’s interests. If I were researching it, I’d start with older versions of the charms now used for portraits. I’d also examine the conditions when it happened — what I was doing, thinking, what was happening around me. It could be that something you were doing set it off. All that said, I think you should leave it alone,” Bill says. He looks concerned and frowns at James. “This is because of a sudden interest in Curse-breaking? Are you sure it’s not something else?”_ _

__“Nothing else, no,” James says. He can’t help it. His eyes dart to the place where the Extendable Ear peeks through the door frame._ _

__“If you say so, but if something’s going on, if you need help, let me know if you don’t want to tell your parents. I can keep a secret.”_ _

__“Thanks, Uncle Bill,” says James, feeling a wave of affection for him. “It’s nothing, really.”_ _

__Bill leaves and James stands in the room, in front of the painting, feeling like a right prat._ _

__James hears Sirius’ soft footfalls on the carpet. “You lied to your Uncle,” says Sirius._ _

__“Don’t remind me,” James says._ _

__“So…that’s Gideon and Fabian’s nephew?”_ _

__“Yeah, they were my Grandmother’s brothers,” James says._ _

__Sirius nods and takes a deep breath. “Right, well, should we take his advice? What were you doing when the portrait opened?”_ _

__James walks to stand in front of it. “Nothing,” says James._ _

__“Why the hell were you in a room full of dusty junk and paintings? You must have been doing something,” says Sirius._ _

__James thinks back to that day. He’d been at loose ends, pining a bit, and thinking about a past that wasn’t his. “I was thinking about you,” he says._ _

__“What?” Sirius says. A small, pleased smile plays about his lips. “I knew my charisma was powerful, but that’s incredible.”_ _

__“Idiot,” says James. “I was thinking about — ” Sirius is smiling at him and coming closer and he can remember what those full lips felt like on his, and he doesn’t want to risk this becoming maudlin. “I was thinking about this,” James says. He grabs Sirius’ hand with one of his and cups Sirius’ jaw with the other._ _

__Sirius does him the favour of not pointing out that James can’t possibly have been thinking about what it’s like to kiss Sirius and lets himself be pulled in for a kiss._ _

__James walks Sirius backwards, kissing and touching him all the time, to the front room. There are sofas and a soft rug, and they can have a fire, and doing this in front of the portrait frame seems much too creepy._ _

__“I want you,” says James. Something about the way Sirius is yielding to James, letting him take the lead, makes James pause and ask. “Have you ever done this?”_ _

__Sirius shakes his head. “Opportunities were a bit thin — you can’t walk up to a bloke and say you fancy him, after all.”_ _

__James also wonders if Sirius wasn’t really interested in anyone if he couldn’t have Remus. He’d understand that, given how long he pined after Teddy._ _

__“Like I said before, there are some arseholes, but it’s easier now.” Someone who looks like Sirius would have blokes lining up for a chance with him now. James sits on the rug near the fire. It’s soft and thick and close enough to the fire that one side of his body is immediately warm. “People like you made it easier for people like me.”_ _

__“Not sure I deserve that,” Sirius says, shrugging and dropping down to sit next to James. “I haven’t had the courage to tell anyone but my best mate. I haven’t even told the bloke I fancy.”_ _

__“I could take offence to that remark,” says James._ _

__“Don’t,” Sirius says. He covers James’ knee with his hand and leans close to brush his lips against James’._ _

__“Mm,” James sighs into the kiss. He shifts so he’s in front of Sirius on the rug, sitting with his legs thrown over Sirius’ legs, thighs across Sirius’ thighs. From this angle, he can run his hands through Sirius’ thick hair. He can touch Sirius’ shoulders and chest and stomach. Sirius makes the most wonderful sounds — he sighs when James swipes his tongue across Sirius’ lips, he moans when James slides his hand from Sirius’ chest to his stomach, and he whispers a soft _yes_ when James trails a finger over his hard cock. _ _

__Sirius becomes more bold, and James gets the sense that he’s not used to being tentative, to being the one shown the way. He mirrors James’ actions, sucking on James’ tongue, and opening James’ clothes with deft slides of his fingers. Sirius pauses and pulls back._ _

__“You sure your family won’t pop in?” Sirius says, glancing at the Floo. “I don’t fancy getting murdered by my godson before he’s even born.”_ _

__James flicks his wand in the direction of the fireplace, sealing the Floo with a wordless charm. He’s not Harry Potter’s son for nothing._ _

__“You sure we should — if you’ve never…” says James. He wants to. He wants to so badly and at the same time, he’s not the arse some people seem to think he is. If Sirius is in love with someone else, he doesn’t want to take that first time from him. And if Sirius checking on his family was a sign of hesitancy, he wants to know that now._ _

__“I’m certain one shouldn’t shag someone who’s named after them,” says Sirius. “I’m also certain I want to. With you.”_ _

__“It’s only my middle name.”_ _

__“In that case,” Sirius says and he pushes James’ shirt off his shoulders. He takes in James’ thin but muscled chest and stomach and his gaze drops to where James’ erection is pushing at his trousers. James feels himself grow harder under Sirius’ intense attention._ _

__James stills. He forces himself not to lunge at Sirius, kissing him fiercely and rubbing against him until they both come. He stays still and watches Sirius’ hands peel back his clothes, take his time undressing James, and finally vanishing his trousers._ _

__“Gah,” James gasps as Sirius runs one finger along the line of his erection where it’s straining against the thin cotton of his pants. Sirius grins and slips the finger through the now gaping Y-front and traces the underside of James’ cock with the tip of his finger. “God, please,” James groans. Sirius’ fingers where they’re touching him feel like they’re on fire._ _

__“Like this?” Sirius asks as he pulls at the elastic of James’ pants and his cock springs free._ _

__“Yeah,” says James, his voice thick with desire and anticipation. “Show me what you like.”_ _

__Sirius wraps his hand around James’ cock and begins to stroke. His hand moves, even and sure, up and down on James’ cock, with a little twist at the top of the stroke, making James’ toes dig into the rug with the friction around the head. James can imagine that this is how Sirius touched himself, closed up in his bed at Hogwarts. James thrusts into Sirius’ hand._ _

__“You,” says James. He vanishes Sirius’ clothes, and Sirius’ hand on James’ cock hardly falters. He’s hard as a rock, long and gorgeous, and all James can think at first is that, next time, he’s going to have to suck him. He circles the head of Sirius’ cock with two fingers, a light, teasing touch that makes Sirius gasp._ _

__Sirius’ pace on James’ cock is relentless, the friction is building and spreading through James’ body. He’s going to come, soon and hard._ _

__“Come on,” Sirius groans. He presses his forehead against James’, watching their hands on each others’ cocks. “Fuck,” he says, and James begins to stroke in time with Sirius’ rhythm. “Your hand looks fucking gorgeous on me,” Sirius says._ _

__James watches his hand, watches the head of Sirius’ cock disappear into his fist and then reappear, dark and glistening. God, he’s really, really going to have to suck him._ _

__Sirius starts to rock his hips, his breath is quick against James’ cheek. James feels the pull in his belly and in his groin. He wants to be kissing Sirius when he comes, so he presses his mouth to Sirius’ and Sirius immediately curls his tongue around James’. They both stroke faster and Sirius comes first, gasping into the kiss, and squeezing James’ cock even harder._ _

__“Fuck, fuck, yes,” James hears himself babble as he feels his own orgasm roll through him, deep and intense._ _

__Sirius drops his forehead onto James’ shoulder. He’s panting as if he’s run five miles and James can still feel the occasional shudder in his muscles as he comes down from his orgasm._ _

__Half of James wants to curl up on the rug in front of the fire and take a nap with Sirius in his arms. The other half wants to realise his fantasy of sucking him off until he’s about to come, and then let Sirius fuck him._ _

__“There was talk of shagging,” Sirius says. “We don’t seem to have managed that.” He sits there on the floor, gloriously disheveled, stunningly gorgeous, and apparently completely without self-consciousness about his body or the fact that his chest and stomach are streaked with come._ _

__The sight makes a renewed surge of desire rush through James’ body._ _

__“Let’s go to bed,” James says, grabbing Sirius’ hand and pulling him to his feet._ _

__Sirius follows him eagerly. As they take to the stairs up to the room where they’ve each slept their entire childhoods, Sirius says — so quietly as if if he didn’t really want James to hear it — “I didn’t realise it, but when I went through, through the frame, I was thinking about you.”_ _

__***_ _

__The evenings are cool despite the heat of the day. Last summer, James spent nearly every evening in the back garden and more often than not, Teddy would join him. They’d look up at the sky and at the few stars that managed to struggle through the city lights and Teddy would listen to James prattle on about his last year of school and what he wanted for his future. Then one day, Teddy had told him that he was leaving to take a research position abroad and he’d be gone for at least a year — gone when James finished school and began life as an adult. Gone when James was finally planning to tell Teddy how he really felt._ _

__James is sat in the space between Sirius’ legs, his back against Sirius’ chest. Sirius’ hand slides down James’ torso to rest on his stomach. James relaxes back against Sirius, feeling his solid, warm body. The past few days have been like nothing James has ever experienced. He feels like he's on an island with no one but Sirius. The days have passed in a haze of laughter, and some of the most complicated intellectual and magical work James has ever done, and sex. Sirius may have been inexperienced, but there's nothing virginal about his enthusiasm._ _

__They've landed on an approach that they think may work, combining the theory behind spaces like the room of requirement and the charms work on portraits. They haven't tried it in practice yet and Sirius hasn't seemed to be in anymore of a hurry than James. Summer is coming to an end, and something will have to change soon. James breathes in the night air and rubs his hand along Sirius' thigh._ _

__“I used to come out here with Regulus,” Sirius says. He covers James' hand with his own. “To get away from the tyrants.”_ _

__“Albus and I came out here as well,” says James. He lets his head drop back onto Sirius’ shoulder. “Just to get away.”_ _

__“S’nice,” says Sirius. He tightens his arm around James’ body._ _

__James turns his head and presses his lips against Sirius’ neck. “I don’t want you to go back,” he whispers, his lips moving on Sirius’ skin._ _

__“I know,” says Sirius. “Don’t talk about it yet. Not yet,” he says and his hand slips under the waistband of James’ trousers._ _

__“I wouldn’t do anything to make you stop that,” James says. Sirius’ clever fingers are curling around James’ cock, stroking lightly._ _

__He opens James’ trousers and the cool air feels wonderful on James’ overheated skin. "Good, because I really want to carry on."_ _

__“Please do,” James says, rocking his hips to increase the friction on his cock. He loves watching Sirius’ hands on him. They’re so elegant and strong, long-fingered and delicate despite their strength. They look as aristocratic as Sirius is, and the contrast of them doing something as filthy and they are right now makes James hard._ _

__“You feel good,” says Sirius. He rolls his body and James feels Sirius’ erection poke into his arse where it’s cradled against Sirius’ groin._ _

__James wraps his arm around behind him, combing his fingers through Sirius’ thick, soft hair. He watches Sirius’ hand move up and down on his cock and his cock feels bigger and harder than it’s ever been under Sirius’ attentions._ _

__Sirius bends his head to kiss James’ neck, nipping with his teeth just enough so that James knows he could bite if he wanted to._ _

__“Let's go in," says James. "I need to be inside you."_ _

__Sirius' hand on James' cock falters. They haven't done that yet. They’ve done about everything else that James can think of, and James had been happy to introduce Sirius to the joys of all sorts of sex, and to be the one penetrated when it came to that. He hadn't wanted to rush Sirius, and Sirius hadn't asked._ _

__"I mean, I want to," says James. "If you do." He holds his breath._ _

__"Yeah," Sirius says. "I do."_ _

__Sirius' arms tighten around James and James feels the sickening pull of Apparition. He lands, bouncing a bit, on his own bed._ _

__"That was bloody precise," James says._ _

__"I was motivated," says Sirius, laughing and tumbling back onto the bed next to James._ _

__James props himself up on his elbows and looks down at Sirius. He's so beautiful that James sometimes feels he can't look directly at him._ _

__"Off," James murmurs, moving his hand down Sirius' body and watching his clothes fall away with the charm he's perfected over the last several days. His body is long and lean and strong. His shoulders are broader than James', but he's somehow more delicate. Or maybe he just seems that way to James right now. "I'm going to make this so good," he says._ _

__Sirius shivers and pulls James on top of him. Both of their erections had flagged with the Apparition and as James kisses him and moves over him, his own stirs and he feels Sirius growing hard against him. "How do you want to do it?" James asks. "If you still want to."_ _

__"Like this," Sirius says. He parts his legs and wraps them around James, his heels resting on James' arse. "I want you on top of me."_ _

__James rolls his hips and teases open Sirius' mouth with his tongue. He wants him good and desperate before they do this. He wants it to be so good for Sirius._ _

__" _Accio lube_." James deftly catches the tube that comes flying at him from the floor where they'd tossed it last night. He squeezes some into his hand and warms it with a charm. "Okay," he whispers, his lips moving against Sirius' cheek. He trails his hand down Sirius' body, working it between their stomachs and stroking Sirius' hard cock with the warmed lube. Sirius moans and thrusts up into his hand. _ _

__"Get on with it," Sirius says, and James wonders how anyone could make that sentence sound so unbearably hot._ _

__"Okay?" James asks as he slips one finger inside Sirius' body. They've done this much before, when Sirius asked James how it felt, and Sirius seemed to agree that it felt very, very good._ _

__"Yes," hisses Sirius, rocking his hips so he forces James' finger deeper._ _

__James needs to kiss him, so he presses his lips to Sirius’ and slides his tongue inside Sirius' mouth. Sirius opens to James and spreads his legs further, urging James on as James slips in a second finger. Sirius is moaning now, and James doesn't think he could be any harder, and he feels the moans from deep in Sirius' body on his lips and his tongue._ _

__“Ready, you're ready,” groans James. He breathes through the small frisson of nerves. He wants this, and he wants it with Sirius, he realises. He’s bowled over by it — the realisation that if he could have Teddy in this moment, he wouldn’t change a thing._ _

__"Please, James," Sirius says._ _

__James moves to his knees between Sirius' legs and Sirius curls in on himself, his legs wrapped high around James body._ _

__"Breathe," says James and he leans to kiss him. His cock is straining and aching and he's almost afraid he's going to come the second it touches Sirius' body. He takes a deep, steadying breath along with Sirius and pushes forward._ _

__Sirius' mouth falls open when the head of James' cock presses inside. "Don't stop," he says, the words halting and barely formed._ _

__"Yeah," James grunts. It takes everything he has to go slow. He watches Sirius' face for tension or pain. He pushes in slowly and then pulls out again, little pulses that go deeper each time. He watches Sirius' face for the look in his eyes and the sweat on his brow. He watches for the moment that Sirius' face shifts to bliss and he starts to rock back against James, setting the pace and pushing James harder. "You feel so good, fuck, Sirius, nothing ever felt so good."_ _

__Sirius moans and bites his lips and James nearly comes from the thought that he's pushed Sirius beyond words._ _

__James leans and kisses Sirius once more before he shifts their weight, coming back to sit on his own haunches, and pulling Sirius with him. The position changes the angle, so James is even deeper inside Sirius, and so he can stroke Sirius' cock as he's fucking him in long, hard thrusts._ _

__"Oh, yes, James, fuck," Sirius says in a stream of gasped breath. "Don't stop, ever, don't, oh." Sirius slams his arms down on the bed and arches his body, grinding down on James’ cock. A flush spreads across the pale skin of his chest and James watches with a sense of luck and wonder as Sirius comes hard and long, his mouth open around an endless stream of pleas._ _

__James stills and waits for Sirius to stop shuddering. His cock is still so hard and straining inside Sirius. He rolls his hips once, revelling in the tight heat._ _

__"Should I?" Sirius starts to ask, waving one hand in a vague gesture._ _

__"No," James says, pulling out of Sirius slowly. "Lie there looking gorgeous." Sirius smiles a crooked smile and does just that – lies there looking well-fucked and so beautiful that James wants to memorise every hair on his head._ _

__James kneels over Sirius and strokes his own cock. It won't take long and when Sirius props himself up on his elbows so he can watch and says, "Bloody hell, and you say I'm the gorgeous one." James' orgasm pounds through him in a wave that nearly knocks him over._ _

__Sirius collapses back onto the bed and James follows him, landing half on top of him. Sirius' strong arm comes around James and they rest, breathing together._ _

__“I have some things I need to do,” says Sirius after several minutes. His hand moves to stroke James' hair. “I don’t know if I can stop it, but I can at least warn Dumbledore.”_ _

__“If you manage it, if you stop it, then you’ll still be alive,” says James. “Now.” He turns his head so he can see Sirius' face and places a kiss on his jaw._ _

__“And I’ll be old enough to be your grandfather.”_ _

__James can feel that Sirius is smiling and the bittersweet tone in his voice makes James' chest ache._ _

__“Do you think you — this you — will be able to come back through? I mean, if you go back, if the tunnel closes again,” James says. He turns his head to press his face against Sirius' neck._ _

__“I have no idea. Alphard’s probably the only one who knows and we can’t ask him.”_ _

__“Yeah.” Sirius' hand caresses James' back and James memorises every sensation he has right now – including the pain in his chest and the empty feeling in his stomach. “We’re going to try it tomorrow, though, aren’t we?”_ _

__“I think I have to,” says Sirius._ _

__“I don’t want to fall asleep,” says James. He burrows his face into Sirius' neck and breathes deeply the scent of him._ _

__"Don't," Sirius says. He pulls James on top of him again and kisses him, deep and long, and James loses himself in it and, for now, let’s himself forget about everything else._ _

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the 2018 HP Next Gen Fest. The creator will be revealed on November 30.


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